#who gave you the right to come into my dreams

[artist-issues]

Hi.

Jasmine - Went beyond the idea of “consent” to say what she really wanted was “a real friend” and “love” if married. Once she got those things, even when they were falsely found in Prince Ali, no more “boldly sneaking out for independence” for her.

Rapunzel - Wanted to go see the world and experience things for herself but discovered the best experience and dream was love, from a man, who she was willing to give “experiencing things” up for the sake of (when Mother Gothel stabbed him and she promised not to escape again if she could heal him.)

Snow White - Absolutely literally 100% “waiting for a man.” Her song is called “Someday My Prince Will Come.” Her prayer is for Grumpy, a man, to like her. She’s happiest when she’s showing love to the male characters around her. And that kind of love is what inspires and transforms them, to be less self-centered.

Mulan - Wanted to have a safe father and prove she was worthwhile—which she was. Long before she ever went off to war, she had her father’s love and esteem. “The greatest gift and honor is having you for a daughter.” She never needed to go to war to prove that. She never needed to prove she was as good as a man to do that, or better than a man, to do that. She had it all along.

Aurora - Not forced. Protected. By superpowered women who gave up their power, dignity, and identities just to keep her safe. And when she found out she couldn’t have the man she was in love with, she was heartbroken, but did not rebel against authority—because she’s the kind of precious woman who respects others and is worth protecting.

Cinderella - The Fairy Godmother does not “empower” Cinderella so that Cinderella can “reach her goals.” The Fairy Godmother gives Cinderella her “goals.” Literally. And she does it as a direct result of Cinderella willingly waiting for help. Not help necessarily from a Prince, but help from Something outside of herself. Fate, destiny, (in the original fairy tale it’s God) to “make her dreams come true.” And then after she meets the Prince? She certainly is “waiting” for him. She’s not sneaking out of the house by her wit and moxy to wave her slipper in front of his face and lecture him about how he can’t recognize her if she’s not in a ball gown. It’s her faith that saves her. And faith is dependent on something outside her own abilities.

Pocahontas - Wants to do the right thing, her “destined path,” instead of the smoothest, easiest thing, which is what everyone in her tribe sees as the highest good. And when hate is introduced, she combats it with love—not by “befriending” John Smith, but by giving her heart to John Smith, despite the fact that he can be a prejudiced blowhard. She loves him anyway. And that love allows her to see him as human, when everyone else sees him as less-than human. Same thing, with him to her. Without him in her life helping her to put belief into action, Pocahontas would have had no ability to convince anyone not to go to war.

Tiana - Why is everyone so obsessed with who-saves-who? Tiana worked to be an independent restaurant owner and that got her nothing, and if it had gotten her anything she straight-up says later in the movie that her dream (independence and ownership) would have been incomplete. Dissatisfying. Without who? Without a man. Without Naveen. Because love is worth more than gain, status, or validation—and she was never going to get love, gain, or validation without the help of a Higher Power. Her “the only way I’m going to get what I want is through my own hard work” philosophy was wrong, the whole movie worked hard to prove it wrong.

Belle - Belle’s “willingness to see past the exterior” did not save Prince Adam. Her showing him what it looks like to love someone self-sacrificially—meaning, you give up your own independence and your own dreams, for someone you love (her father)—is what gave him hope, and that hope led to him doing the same for her. Sacrificing his own interests for her, which is love, which is what broke the curse. Their love for each other broke the curse, it was not “her-saving-him.” And his name’s not Prince Adam, get over it, it’s the Beast.

Ariel - Ariel did not want to be human before she met Eric. She wanted to be part of the human world and understand it, and sure, she thought having feet and living in a world where she wasn’t told what to do all the time would be pretty cool—but “want,” as in, “give up anything for it, ready to go right now,” NO. She markedly did not want to leave her family and give up everything. Not until she had confirmation that she was right—that humans are not barbarians, and can be wonderful—and ERIC is that confirmation, for her. Eric is the inciting incident. Eric is the reason, the big “WHY” behind Ariel leaving the sea. She did give up everything for him. That’s the movie. There’s a shift in her motivations in the movie, and it happens when she sees that A) Eric is a dreamer like her, B) Eric is ridiculed for the way he sees the world like her, but he keeps believing anyway, and C) Eric risks his life to save other creatures instead of being a “spineless savage harpooning fish-eating barbarian.” Ariel did not want independence. She didn’t sign away her life and leave her family so she could dance around exploring the surface alone and independent. She did it so that she could be with someone. Who? Oh. A man. For love. And he absolutely does save her.

Merida - Merida’s movie is not about romance. The topic of “Arranged marriage” is only in the movie at all as a mini object lesson for “be brave enough to let a child decide what they’ll do with all you’ve taught them, instead of trying to force them out of a fear that they’ll make the wrong decision.” It’s really not making a statement about marriage at all. That’s just a low-hanging “the audience can understand Merida’s misgivings” fruit they grabbed.

Again—why are you all so obsessed with who-saves-who?

If you do the saving, congratulations, you demonstrated that you’re willing to sacrifice yourself, the hardest thing to sacrifice, for the sake of another. If you get saved, CONGRATULATIONS, you’re loved enough to be treated as worth such a sacrifice. BOTH THOSE THINGS ARE AWESOME. The worst thing to be is someone who 1) acts on their own self-interest (oh, like if your highest dream is to be “independent”) or 2) is completely unloved by anyone, and if you were endangered, nobody would even notice. Nobody would even want to demonstrate how much you mean to them by trying to save you.

Those are the worst things you could be. Why are you all so eager for your women characters to be those horrible loveless things? OR your men??

Also waiting?? Waiting to be saved? Have you ever lived any life, ever? Have you ever been in a circumstance you can’t change—yes you have, because you’re a human being who is not all-powerful. Don’t you know how incredible being able to wait for someone else to help you is? Do you know what the alternative is? Living in denial because you arrogantly believe that you have all the power to not only know what the exact right thing to do is to change your circumstance, but if you could just get it right, everything would change. OR. The other denial? Giving up. Letting your circumstances change you. My family hates me, so I’ll hate them back. I can’t get away so I might as well die. Those alternatives are the natural, easy, response we sink right into.

But waiting in hopeful expectation? Waiting because you trust someone else? Not letting your emotions be yanked up and down and all around by the shallow people and hard circumstances around you? That is hard to do.

These characters who wait on saviors and trust in love are so much stronger than the strong independent nothings you’re imagining.

Sincerely,

A woman who is waiting on The Man to come back and save her.

#StickIt

[widebrimmedhatsblog]

ONYX STORM ⚡️⚡️⚡️

My thoughts below the cut! Spoilers galore. This is all from my first read through, so we’ll see what changes by the time I finish my second read. I’m still pretty jumbled up about the book (I am physically incapable of opening up goodreads and giving it a rating) and, frankly, I think my notes are going to reflect this! Also, this is thoughts for the WHOLE BOOK, so please don’t open the full post if you’re not done with the WHOLE BOOK.

I’m pasting my notes directly from the doc I took them on while reading , and adding extra post-read commentary when I feel the urge! Also this is your warning that I swear quite a bit in these! For they are candid.

ch1-10:

- i will say i thought the ch 2 epigraph was an inntinnsic clue but now im not so sure bc it’s not that rare it’s just that they kill everyone who has it ??? (commentary from future helena: this is about lilith…right?)

- tell me something, violence. why is it always you? 😵‍💫😵‍💫😵‍💫😵‍💫

- what IS a soul. how can you take a soul apart piecemeal. why do you think he gave up part of his soul. who told you that. (CFFH: i stand by this. none of this makes any sense to me.)

- hmmmm no red post fingering! curious…very curious (CFFH: i still don’t know about this one dawg)

- the kiss beneath her ear after he helps her get dressed somebody sedate me

- god DOES garrick like imogen because mans does NOT act like it poor im (CFFH: I seriously cannot stop wondering when the hell Rebecca decided to make immrick canon because i LIKE the ship, but on my fw and if re reads it does not read like Garrick likes her, and I would say that holds true till the very end of the damn book)

- VIOLETTTTTTTT I LOVE HER she’s so fucking back (CFFH: violets characterization was my favorite thing about this book. i was really scared about xaden leaving because frankly rebecca writes violet best with him, but she held her own so much better than she has in the other two books. i always love her, but she was incredible here.)

- the bits about vi being a good duchess i Knew that was him saying he wanted to marry her (CFFH: this is an example of what i like to call RY’s “gotcha ass foreshadowing”)

- also i have always characterized fen in my head as loving the movement more than xaden i know what’s up

- i’m soooo excited about him being the duke this is so embarassing im pumping my fists

- did NOT see the samara field trip coming what the fuck

- EVEN HUNDREDS OF MILES AWAY HES STILL TSKING CARE OF EMD EKDNRNRNRN (CFFH: yeah.)

- hey guys what the fuck was that dream? did RY see the cat/violet shippers and get ideas

- WHAT THE FUCK. i saw NONE of this coming

- GARRICKS A WIND WIELDER ???? (CFFH: obviously did not age super well…however garrick was acting so sus here and his dialogue felt so off that i genuinely thought he was the traitor for a fat minute)

11-20

- WHETS RNRJRNRNRNRNRNRJEKEKKRRN

- IS THIS THE MARKED ONES SECOND SIGNET TNEORY (CFFH: can you tell i was a big fan of the marked ones second signet theory. also what’s xadens third signet then? also i feel like if EVERYONE has 2 vi will have 3! i have a theory explaining it below somewhere)

- WLSO DID XADEN FHCKINF KNOW (CFFH: they actually handled this really well i was so nervous they’d have the fight again)

- dude im like short circuiting sick to my stomach HES SOOOOOOO BOYFRIEND ? (CFFH: what on EARTH was this about?)

- well the fuck aware!!!!!!!!!

- i can’t breathe

- i need my inhaler

- LIAM WIELDINF ICE (CFFH: again, can you tell i was a big fan of the marked ones second signet theory? fun fact, i actually wanted to write it into ITHOIA but then i realized a. how much work it would be to concoct that many signets and b. i’d have to give xaden THREE, and decided to pick my battles. however i did brainstorm what signets had xaden energy for giving him a third one and immmmmm immmm having ideasssssss)

- YOURS X

- why do i agree with JFBs venin logic man

- god halden is her traumatic ex relationship goddddd (CFFH: i edited out most of my complaining, but i was super against the halden idea (per my predictions). this might get me cancelled, but it did feel fan service-y? to me? which is fine! fans deserve to be serviced! there are moments of this book in which i am the fan being serviced! but when it become clear RY was going in the halden direction, i was super stressed about how she’d handle it, and im thrilled she made him toxic. THRILLED.)

- SECOND KROVLAN UPRISING

- knowing miss yarros and her gotcha ass foreshadowing ridoc is going on that quest lmdao

- PRFOEOEKEENDJEJEN PROFESSOR RIORSON PROFESSOR RIOROSN (CFFH: not only do i stand by this, but i actually wanted to write teacher roleplay for kinktober and i didn’t bc i didn’t think the fandom would take a liking to it, but CLEARLY rebecca didn’t have those concerns)

- i am going to commit crimes against humanity your relationship did not just END SJEJEJEJENR R (CFFH: i’ve noticed miss yarros has begun to really lean on chapter cliffhangers, and frankly, it pisses me off. i understand she needs to get her bag with kindle unlimited and all, but it makes for a stressful reading experience imo. however, this one got me. this one got me SO bad i had to take a walk to calm down. i have been looking forward to professor riorson for MONTHS and i was convinced it was crashing and burning before my eyes. maybe this is why i shouldn’t read past 1 am. i know rebecca has given interviews and has said she needs there to be constant tension in their relationship or else there’s no story, and while i know what she means, THIS tension felt so manufactured to me. i also think she could pull off a war story with them just like …together. i believe in her. the story needs tension, but it doesn’t need to be between them like this, imho.)

- we live by the codex/i live by you 😵‍💫😵‍💫😵‍💫😵‍💫😵‍💫😵‍💫I AM YOURS AND YOU ARE MINE AND THERE’S NO LAW OR RULE IN THIS WORLD OR THE NEXT THAT CAN CHANGE THAT

- you know what we might get shadow sex in this book. we might. (CFFH: we do! and i think we can get more with asim!xaden)

- fun fact about me it took till my THIRD RE READ to see that xaden controls the shadows with his hands.

- there’s been like 3 indirect marriage references if my fucking empire of storms prediction was correct im going to scream (CFFH: so i actually didn’t get to scream because i was too busy MOURNING the lack of a RIORGAIL WEDDING.)

- PAPA SORRENGAIL HAS NAME AND ITS ASHER ?????

- ridocs blow job joke was funny i cackled

- papa sorrengail (im going to deadname him) i do love you man

- SHADOW HANDCUFFS OH MY GOS i had a seizure in my reading hammock

- he is my choice. that got me. that felt good.

- DRAAAAAAAAKE (CFFH: i may say this later, but alli (no tag bc she’s not done reading yet) made drake so sexy to me (and amy! also no tag) and i was kind of disappointed lmfao)

- vi rlly out here playing cousins or dating

21-30

- i loooooove him calling her love all the time

- it’s so crazy to me that he’s relaxed without magic but im glad! since i do think this is his ending over all

- helena bets time: the deal the krovlan rebels didn’t uphold was smth to do with the irids or the feather tails

- “xaden riorson is a lot of things, but happy usually isn’t one of them” hey man what the fuck

- this feels like a fever dream this is the dragon show christmas episode that isn’t relevant to the plot what do you mean they’re bonding over horses

- hey guys is this…capitalism?

- i can’t get over the isle kingdoms being kerch (CFFH: if you haven’t read six of crows this won’t make any sense, but if you have….)

- ARETIA IS THE SECOND MOST BEAUTIFUL THING I MVE EVER SEEN AND MY HOME IS THE FIRST (CFFH: he was ON ONE in this)

- maybe im toxic but he’s being so nice im so anxious about something going wrong 💀 like he stays in the isles or something jesus

- “even if we did, we can’t be in two places at once” + xaden acting weird ….. (CFFH: i want to say third signet but i don’t know)

- what the FUCK is going on with him like it’s really hot but it’s freaking me out

- IM GIVING DIPLOMACY A TRY NOT SURE ITS FOR ME THOUGH (CFFH: dare i say lilith parallel)

- HE WOULD HAVE IF HE’D MET HIM. knocked me on my ass.

- i have an idea i just dont like being wrong baby violet i need to give you a forehead kiss

- why is violets dad the grandpa from the inheritance games

- im going to bed fr fr now but my last minute prediction is that he marries vi to make her an aristocrat (this is wishful thinking) (also we don’t HAVE to rescue halden) (like it’s fine if we don’t)

- MY CONSORTTTTTTTT

- WHEN WOULD BE. can he propose for real. please. (CFFH: this is hurting my feelings)

- bro his LINES IN THIS ???? who do you swear fealty to/VIOLET

- he’s acting less sus…i did NOT like that epigraph abt “returning to his true nature” (CFFH: maybe im on something but idk if this was meant to reflecrt him draining the alloy or whatever it was orrrr if it was abt vi channeling somehow!)

- im almost worried he’s trying to marry her before he kills himself or something but he keeps telling her how selfish he is so maybe not (CFFH: close!)

- her EDS is also a lot better done this time around (CFFH: from a layman’s point of view, obviously, but her injuries were much more graphic, and her other symptoms were actually on page. i really appreciated this)

- oh my godddd sloane and dain.

- i feel like the bond fuckery is vi’s second signet ???? i ALSO feel like it’s sexy

- DAXTON

- PAPA SORRENGAIL HAS A MAIDEN NAME

- also bodhi TOTALLY has a second signet that little LIAR i wonder if he’s an inntinnsic too or smth.

- god imagine bodhi has resurrection

- im trying to be normal but i feel like its insane we’re just now learning where violets family is from idk!!!

- why is dain sweet in this idk also this happened earlier but vi’s dad teaching him languages FOR violet makes me want to cry

- im so fucking proud of violet holy crap

- is violet ??? unnbrian????

31-40

- FOREHEAD TAT LIKE THEOPHANIE!!!!

- violet absolutely can wield there im calling it rn shawty is MAGICAL (CFFH: i guess maybe it’s her touched by dunne ??? thing ??? and she’s somehow ??? half god ????)

- god xaden and dain love her so much

- why does rebecca never let me see xaden do her wraps for her i want to seeeeee

- they’re all in couple pairs so obviously dain and garrick are fucking next (CFFH: this was a joke but tbh…i could be convinced idk)

- god so timing wise DID papa sorrengail meet xaden’s mom !/!:!3&3’ejd (CFFH: i don’t think so ??? but maybe ???)

- not sure my thoughts on the name talia (CFFH: this is bc i picture my bestie Thalia Grace)

- the mommy issues are churning my stomach

- i loooooove aaric holy

- dude i totally thought ridoc was dead

- babe! this isn’t you!

- oh my god ?????? i was NOT expecting violet to give them the old kazzledazzle (CFFH: this is another six of crows reference in which Kaz uses someone’s child as leverage by implying that he’ll kill them, basically, except Kaz is on page morally gray. in THIS book violet is, but i don’t think she had been before now)

- this is genuinely honest to god NOT how i thought their relationship would go and it’s freaking me out

41-50

- you’re my soul JESUS what is he ON

- god poor andarna

- I KNEW HE WAS AN ARIES AND NOT A PICSES I KNEWWWW ITTTT

- she wrote him a letter 🥹🥹🥹🥹🥹🥹

- i will say i’ve been wondering if the venin effects xaden experiences are more of a ptsd metaphor than anything

- is cuir trans bc i totes thought she was a woman

- ….it would be a shame to kill my last living relative….

- god the adaptations to the running landing mean so much to me im so proud of her

- violet baby i love you to pieces

- you do some of your best work on that throne 😭😭😭😭 (CFFH: the amount of callbacks in this book was very intriguing to me)

- WERE HOME VI ACT LIKE IT

- i was actually rlly against xaden telling anyone he was venin but it’s all gone surprisingly well

- if lindell and lewellen are xaden and liam’s gay foster dads….dont call don’t text

- shadow handcuffs………………..

- im a fan!

- god i did NOT expect that to be the route they took? with the sex ? (CFFH: i thought they were gonna handcuff XADEN. )

- she is absolutely having xaddys dreams but idk what the FUCK the cat one was

- IS XADENS THIRD SIGNET PROPHETIC DREAMS. (CFFH: im leaning towards venin mindfuckery but who knows)

51-end

- i am actually really enjoying tairn and adarna this read although id like a dragon punnet square

- violet is so venin. xaden IS power she says while she says SHE IS power mmmmm rebecca i know your secrets (CFFH: see yall after book 4 idk)

- hi who the fuck was the high priestess and why does it matter im so confused i can see the puzzle pieces and i am flipping the table

- also crack pot theory entered my head. if xaddy gets 3 signets then vi has to get 3 signets. tairn never says naolin he always says “the one who came before” what if…hear me out…somehow it was papa sorrengail???? and not naolin ??? at least not naolin the whole time so then she’s getting a third signet from tairn

- why the fuck did vi not listen to aaric in the first place mans clearly knows what he’s talking about (CFFH: #drama)

- okay is violet a demigod. is that what’s going on

- IS HER HAIR NOT ACTUALLY SILVER (CFFH: i feel like it has to be ????)

- okay wait im thinking about the dedication thing they said earlier -> lilith is sick -> they think fetus vi is going to die -> they ??? dedicate ??? her ??? to dunne ??? (CFFH: i still don’t know actually except she’s two and not a fetus? and it was just papa sorrengail. also i think they rode tairn there LMAO but maybe im insane)

- i cant get over garrick being a distance wielder i need to check on the immrick girlies (CFFH: immrick girlies i hope you’re well!!)

- god how are the irids involved in rsc ???

- i exist for tairn, but i live for xaden okay girl okayyyy

- god does she get to keep being an inntinnsic now ?????

- THRILLED about her sleeping in xadens clothes

- were past the break up stage he’s sooooo real i love him

- core. memory. (CFFH: this is the biggest sin rebecca’s committed anachronism wise my god)

- god DID they get secret married ????

- god when they said bring your brother and i thought she meant liam was being resurrected i actually started to enter cardiac arrest (CFFH: am i the only one 😔)

- is bodhi actually his secret brother and garrick knows and we don’t because what the fuck (CFFH: i guess it could just be vibes?)

- my heart is not in my chest cavity after the liam business

- COLONEL DAXTONS GUIDE TO EXCELLING IN THE SCRIBE QUADRANT!!!!!

- i knew that was how it was going to go purely from alli’s take the second they said they had mira i was like reciting the sitq ending (CFFH: obviously i was slightly wrong but still! this is controversial but the fact that she let everyone were close to (mira/ridoc) live and only killed off tertiary characters kind of undercut the experience for me idk!)

- oh my god dain and sloane 🥹

- come back to me/only ever you

- DUKE OF ANGST

- is garrick’s distance wielding how they dealt with the fuck ass trips to aretia that didn’t work with the timeline bc that’s brilliant actually god damnit

- the bullshit about being everywhere at once means something i can feel it

- RHIANNON?????

- cannot believe that line is feirge

- hi so fun fact i don’t think jm meant to read for this many hours straight i feel like im locked in a trance

- THE ONLY PERSON I TRULY LOVE ???? ABOUT QUINN??? IMOGEN ???

- what on earth is imogen’s second signet bc i don’t think that’s how fire wielding works ????

- i cannot believe the marked ones all have second signets what the ever loving fuck

- i feel like quinn’s death was just not that impactful however imogen saying her mom and sister will know who she is made me tear up jesus

This is where I stopped taking notes!! I’m SO confused about the ending. To be quite honest, I think I’ll reblog this with my thoughts on the ending after I’ve re read it, because I’m LOST. What did Xaden show Sgaeyl ???? Who turned venin with him, because I thought Bodhi but maybe Garrick but maybe both??? how DARE rebecca now show me the riorgail wedding ?/??2?3?3$33&:! WHO does he have a DEAL with???

misc thought that didn’t make it up there:

- i LOVE how she handled Sawyer’s amputation and rehab.

[the-phiwi]

Phiwi!

I would love to hear your adoption story, how did Dan and Phil find you?

I am so glad you asked!

I was but a lonely kiwi sitting on a shelf, I mean, I did have my fellow kiwi friends but I yearned for something more.

I had always felt like my purpose in life was more than just to sit on a shelf collecting dust. Hoping that some stranger buys me for their garden as I sit there to rust.....

That's when a mysterious hand reached out and picked me up. My kiwi mates all watched me, the chosen one in envy.

The hand started stroking my metal feathers gently, assuring me that everything was going to be okay. They explained that I was to be spray painted gold and put on a stage in front of thousands of people. I almost shat myself. Alas, we went to the front of the store to buy the paint, and I got to see the outdoors for the first time. It was a beautiful moment.

I was strapped to a chair. I hear it's called a seatbelt, and is to keep passengers safe.

I was then taken to an undisclosed location and spray painted a bright yellow. (Mysterious hand person bought the wrong paint).

But that was okay, cause they got the right paint in the end. It felt nice when it was sprayed up my bum.

After I had dried, I got to meet this 'Dan and Phil' I had heard so much about. The dark haired one cackled very loudly when he first saw me, and the blonde one just started into my soul with a little smirk on his face.

Come show day, I was placed on a big black box. I was super nervous to be in front of all those fans. I was told about the legend that is the Golden Pig. How could one ever live up to such an iconic creature? I was afraid I would let everybody down, and that they'd wish that the pig was there instead of me. Phil gave me a pep talk before they went backstage to start the show, and I felt a little better.

After the end of the show, I wasn't sure what my fate would be. I am a pretty big kiwi, and London is 24 hours worth of flights away. Would Dan and Phil really bother to bring me back to their home? I thought I was done for.

Luckily, I was wrong, and I was brought all the way across the world to my new home in The Phouse.

And now finally, my life has a meaning. The sense of fulfilment is crazy. I got to be onstage in front of thousands of people. I am now painted gold and feel like a STAR. I have made great friends (hi Pheal and Golden Pig, ily), and have the most loving dads who treasure my existence. The Phouse is the height of luxury. When I was a lonely orphan at The Warehouse, I could have only dreamed of a life like this.

Thank you Dan and Phil for adopting me 🥝💛x

[mugglebornmarvelite]

Game Night

Paring: Avenger! Bucky Barnes x Avenger! Fem! Reader (Grumpy x Sunshine)

Summary: Steve’s mandatory game night takes a turn when you and Bucky are paired up.

Word Count: Roughly 1.4k 

Warnings: Fluff, banter, friendly competition, implied threats, destroying property (Bucky and Sam), romantic tension everyone can feel, and some overprotective Bucky because that man does not play about his sunshine.

Author’s Note: Sorry for the delay; I was helping my friend with a research project. Ugh, it feels choppy, but I hope this is to your liking, babes ;)

Navigation

Divider by: @strangergraphics

The living room buzzed with energy as the Avengers tried to recover from the chaos of their most recent mission; the munching of chips and clinking of drinks in glasses filled the space.

Peter and you were talking animatedly about the mission, with Peter recounting how he flipped mid-air, webbing a bad guy to a nearby wall.

“I mean, I swear, the guy didn’t see it coming. I was way higher up than I thought, and then BAM!” Peter dramatically mimicked the motion with his arms, sending you into fits of laughter.

“It’s honestly kind of unfair that you can just flip your way out of everything, Pete,” you teased, elbowing him.

He shrugged, all smugness. “I mean, someone’s gotta make the web-swinging look good, right?”

Before you could reply, Steve stood up from his spot, clapping his hands for attention. “Alright, team! Time for some mandatory bonding!”

A chorus of groans erupted from the group, each one from someone hoping to escape Steve’s relentless enthusiasm for ‘team-building’ nights.

“Tonight is Charades.” Steve declared.

That’s when Steve decided to assign the partners. He glanced around the room with a twinkle in his eye and paired you with Bucky, clearly anticipating the fun to come.

You gave Bucky your signature puppy dog eyes, and he looked away with a scowl as he crossed his arms over his chest, not wanting to give in and show that he was happy to be partnered with you.

“Oh, great,” Bucky muttered, rolling his eyes. “This is gonna be a disaster.”

You didn’t let his grumpiness throw you off. “Bucky, come on!” you said, plopping beside him on the couch. “We’ve got this! We’re unstoppable!”

Bucky raised an eyebrow and shot you a skeptical look. “Sure, sure. We’ll see about that.”

He didn’t seem convinced, and as Sam overheard, he couldn’t resist adding his two cents.

"Oh, this is gonna be easy," Sam declared loudly, rolling his eyes. "Grumpy Barnes can’t even smile, let alone act."

"You’re gonna regret that," Bucky shot back, his tone thick with warning. 

His words weren’t loud, but they were laced with enough warning that Sam quickly leaned back into his seat, hands raised in mock surrender.

"Okay, okay, I get it," Sam laughed, but you caught the wariness in his eyes. "But not holding my breath, this will be easy."

Then, leaning in toward you, he whispered, “If we lose to that clown, I’m never letting it go.”

You gave him an exaggerated look of disbelief, pretending to be shocked. "Who knew you cared so much about winning?"

Bucky’s lips quirked into the faintest smirk. "Don’t mess this up," he teased.

You winked at him. “You’re with me. How could we lose?”

As the game started, it quickly became clear that Bucky treated charades less like a fun group activity and more like a tactical mission. His intense focus was almost comical, but you fell into an unspoken rhythm. 

When it was your turn to act, Bucky’s sharp eyes locked onto you, and after a few gestures, he almost always guessed your clues. When it was his turn, he leaned into the ridiculousness of it all, whether miming a gorilla or pretending to be a ballerina, just to keep your laughter ringing through the room.

By the end of the game, the scoreboard showed a landslide victory in your favor. Bucky allowed himself a small, smug grin as you squealed in delight and launched yourself into his arms, wrapping your legs around his waist. 

“We’re the dream team!” you exclaimed, giggling as you clung to him.

“Yeah, yeah,” he replied, though his grip on you was secure, his metal arm effortlessly supporting you. “Don’t let it go to your head.”

Much to everyone's amusement, he carried you back to the couch, where he promptly plopped you into his lap. “You’re comfy,” you declared with a grin, making yourself home. 

Sam, clearly displeased, waved a hand in your direction. “This has to be rigged. There’s no way those two didn’t cheat.”

Natasha snorted, leaning back in her chair. “They didn’t cheat, Wilson. They’re just disgustingly in sync.”

Sam grabbed a pillow and chucked it at you. “Sync this!”

The pillow hit you square in the face, and you burst out laughing, holding it in your lap. “It’s just a pillow!”

But Bucky didn’t see it that way. His gaze turned sharp as he caught the second pillow Sam threw mid-air. “If you throw another one at her...”

Sam, of course, took that as a challenge. “What are you gonna do, Barnes?” he quipped, hurling another pillow that you easily dodged.

Bucky’s eyes narrowed. “I’ll give you a five-second head start.”

Sam’s smirk faltered. “Wait, what?”

Without a word, Bucky carefully brushed your hair out of your face, placed you gently on the couch, and stood up. The room went silent as he walked purposefully toward the hallway. 

“What’s he doing?” you asked, looking to Steve for answers.

Steve sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose, hiding a smile. “He’s going to smash Redwing.”

Sam’s eyes widened in panic. 

“Barnes, you touch Redwing, I swear-” He bolted after Bucky, and the two disappeared down the hall. 

Moments later, a loud crash echoed through the compound, followed by Sam’s yelling and Bucky’s retorts.

Natasha chuckled, shaking her head as she leaned back on the couch. “This happens all the time.”

You glanced between her and Steve, bewildered. “Doesn’t anyone stop them?”

Steve shrugged. “Nope. They’ll tire themselves out eventually.”

From a distance, the team could hear the muffled sounds of Bucky and Sam bickering echoing through the compound. 

“Touch Redwing, and you’re paying for a whole new one!” Sam’s voice was laced with fear.

“Oh, don’t worry, Wilson,” Bucky shot back, his tone mockingly calm. “I’ll make sure to recycle the pieces. I hear it’s good for the environment.”

A loud thud followed as if Bucky had knocked something over or thrown something against the wall. 

“Man, what is your problem?” Sam hollered. “You act like I threw a brick at her!”

“You hit her in the face!” Bucky retorted.

“It was a pillow!” Sam defended himself. “It probably felt like a marshmallow.”

“Doesn’t matter,” Bucky countered. “You don’t throw things at her. Ever.”

Back in the living room, you stifled a laugh as Natasha shook her head in amused disbelief. “It’s always like this,” she said, smirking. “I don’t know why Sam keeps testing him.”

Steve folded his arms, looking like the exasperated dad of the group. “Because Sam likes pushing buttons. And Bucky…well, Bucky only has so much patience.”

Another crash echoed from down the hallway, followed by Sam’s yell. “Oh, come on! That wasn’t even Redwing! That was my lamp!”

“You’ve got terrible taste in decor, Wilson,” Bucky said, completely unfazed.

“YOU OWE ME A NEW LAMP!” Sam shouted.

“I did you a favor.” Bucky said dryly. “So say ‘thank you,’ it's polite.”

You couldn’t hold back your giggles any longer. “Should we...I don’t know, step in?” you asked, looking at Steve.

Steve shook his head, a small smile tugging at his lips. “Nah. Let them hash it out. Bucky’s not actually going to break Redwing. Probably.”

“Probably?” Natasha echoed. “You’re really putting a lot of faith in him.”

From the hallway, Sam yelled again. “THAT’S IT, BARNES. YOU AND ME. SPARRING MATCH TOMORROW.”

“Fine,” Bucky fired back. “But don’t be mad when I wipe the floor with you, bird brain.”

Natasha leaned over to you, her voice low. “You know he’s only this protective because it’s you, right? He doesn’t care this much when we get hit with stuff.”

You blushed, glancing down at your hands. “He’s just…looking out for me. Like a guardian.”

Natasha snorted. “Yeah, sure. Keep telling yourself that, sweetheart.”

Steve smiled knowingly but didn’t say anything. 

The sounds of Sam and Bucky’s argument gradually faded as they came back.

Sam was glaring, his hair disheveled, and he muttered under his breath about never forgiving Bucky. 

Bucky, on the other hand, was smug, like he had just won a personal victory.

Sam threw himself back down on the couch, muttering something about "not talking to Barnes for the rest of the week," to which Bucky gave a half-hearted shrug.

He sat down beside you, his arm casually draped across the back of the couch. His eyes flicked down to you, and without a word, he reached out to brush his knuckles lightly over your knee.

“You okay, sunshine?” he asked quietly, only for you to hear.

You smiled. “Yeah, I’m fine.”

Bucky’s lips quirked upward, just slightly. “Good,” he said softly. “No one messes with you. Not even Sam.”

The others shared amused looks, but neither of you paid them any mind. Bucky’s protective side made your heart flutter in a way you didn’t quite understand, and you sank further into the couch, curling into his side.

Thank you so much for reading! I hope you enjoyed!

Tags: @princess-lil-spidey @sapphirebarnes @mgchaser @sparklystarsandstrawberries @arcadia-smith @rnurse-kole @juliebluehufflepuff @sailorsenshiuranep @alexxavicry @ficcharsimp

If you'd like to be added to my taglist or just ask me, and I'll update it!

Much love x

- Maeve

[kpopsexstories]

QUICK FIX GAY #6: The boys of NCT Dream count down to midnight and set off their ‘fireworks’ 🍆💦

This is a 100% gay story. Check out this post for my straight smut and this post for more gay smut.

Pairing: NCT Dream & Male Reader

Content: Jerking off together on NYE, Lots of cumshots 🤭

Type of Sex: UNCONVENTIONAL

Word Count: 937

This is a little quick fix bonus story that relates to the NCT Dream Dating Ban series. Enjoy 😊

You're back in Jisung's dorm, to celebrate the new year with your friends in a way you can only do with them. The clock is about to strike midnight and you all excitedly begin the countdown.

“Ten,” Jeno says loudly to catch everyone's attention. You quickly get where he is going when you see him standing naked in the middle of the room, furiously flapping his hard dick with one hand and holding a watch in the other.

“Nine.”

The others catch the drift too and move a little closer together, stroking a little harder.

“Eight.”

You look around the room and meet everyone's curious eyes and excited expression, as you join in a semi circle of naked men. To your left, Haechan, Mark and Renjun. To your right, Jisung Chenle and Jeno.

“Seven.”

You raise your glass with your free hand, and catch Chenle's smile behind Jisung's shoulder, just before he shuts them hard and grimaces.

“Six.”

“Are we really doing this?” Renjun suddenly asks and laughs out loud while stroking his dick and taking a sip. No one responds to his justified question.

“Five.”

You too stop smiling and looking around, to instead focus on the great sensation between your legs, and the thill of masturbating with your friends. The evening so far has been filled with sex and games.

“Four.”

Haechan and Mark turn their boners toward each other, look into each other's eyes with lust and raise their glasses in a toast.

“Three.”

As always since you gave your body to him and showed him what great sex is, Jisung is too eager and starts the celebration early.

“Two.”

“Ahhh, fuuck!” he groans loudly beside you, and you all turn to watch and smirk as he orgasms and shoots his load onto the carpet.

“One.”

Everyone is furiously flapping their hands, eager to hit the mark, drinks spilling and bodies perspiring as the firework display is about to begin.

“HAPPY NEW YEAR!” everyone shout in unison, finally able to release. The build-up and timing couldn't have been much better.

Jeno leans back and lifts his heels off the ground and glass high in the air. He archs his back and points his cock straight out. “AHHH, FUUCK, HAPPY NEW YEAR!” he says when he explodes. His cum sprays the floor in front of him and several of the men around you giggle excitedly.

Chenle bends forward and lets out a moan. His face is twisted and he holds his breath as he shoots his sperm across a coffee table. He abruptly turns toward Jeno and sprays him too, then to you and Jisung who also get a dose of his incredible firework.

Renjun, whose imminent orgasm has caused his brain to shut down, instinctively holds his glass out in front of him and sticks his dick in the champagne. “Ahhrgh,” he groans and you chuckle when you see him with his dick in the tall glass.

Mark and Haechan have their arms around each other, staring down at their hands and shafts as they jerk them rapidly. They come at the same time, just seconds after midnight, shooting their loads onto each other's arms and stomachs.

Jisung, who is the first to come down from his intense high, gently puts an arm around your back. “Happy new year,” he says in a low voice and looks down at your dick while you continue to stroke it.

You know what he wants and direct it toward him. He smiles wide when you spray and drench his flat stomach in liquid.

“Fuck, that was great!” Jeno exclaims while happily looking around at everyone in the room.

“Happy new year!” Mark repeats and playfully wipes his hand on Haechan's bare chest.

“What the hell did you do?” Chenle asks and laughs out loud, when he spots Renjun and the contents of his glass which has now changed color.

“I didn't want to mess up the floor,” Renjun says with a chuckle. Clearly he was the only one with that kind of consideration.

Haechan is panting heavily beside him. “Too late,” he says while chipping for air, before his eyes meet Mark's again and they proceed to make out.

You grab Jisung around the neck and pull him in for a hug. He falls into your embrace with a giggle and puts his hand on your chest for balance. You too begin to kiss, your dicks still hard between you and cum all over your bodies.

“This is crazy,” you whisper and smile lovingly at him.

“Aren't you glad you came?” he asks.

“Yeah,” you say and kiss him again.

The bathroom door suddenly opens and Jaemin returns. He's naked and hard but not yet emptied.

“Fuck, did I miss it?” he asks and looks around at the display which is already over.

“You're always late,” you tease and raise your glass in his direction, while your hand falls down Jisung's back and ass.

“Come,” Jeno says to make things better for his friend. He kneels on the floor and grabs Jaemin's dick.

You all gather around them, happy faces all around, and cheer them on as Jeno begins to suck the dick waving in his face.

“Ahh, ahh,” Jaemin moans. “Ahh, AHHH, HAPPY NEW YEEEAR!”

You laugh and cheer and clink your glasses together, when Jeno sticks out his tongue and Jaemin ignites his firework.

He sprays his load onto Jeno's face and lips. “Happy new year indeed,” you say in a low voice while staring at them, then turn to glance at Jisung.

“Best new year's eve ever,” you say and wink at each other.

[grim-has-issues]

right, so, per the request of @multibetasfh, i’m here to share my thoughts on bvz6 (watched it with @rottedorange)

Firstly, the writing was spectacular. The dialogue was funny and impactful. It made me laugh, it made me cry, it was beautiful.

The voice direction and acting was phenomenal. The chemistry between characters was heard and felt. Especially with the wet dream bit, bringing on VAs who actually do NSFW stuff was a great bit of foresight and use of talent.

The Mad Crow’s tone and inflection really gave you a grounded sense of his character, and I really enjoyed it.

Sound design was really really really good. It usually is for Mr. Reliable, but this one really hit the mark.

Story wise, it was fairly obvious from the start that something more intimate was going to occur because motherfuckers were flirting every other minute of the script, but it was integrated and built up really well.

But at times, it did kind of feel like they were acting a bit out of character. It was jarring, but could be chalked up to characters getting closer together or any other in universe reason for some type of change.

There was a lot of resolving questions and creating more to be answered. (ex. Lady) (is that a DMC reference?) A sign of great writing overall.

The splitting of plot lines and stories was done really well. Like remarkably well. 10s across the board. The resolution of those stories into coming back together again was also done really well, TV show quality well.

The ending for Albus and The Crow was definitely something I spoiled for myself, but honestly I’m glad I did. Last time GBA did something outrageously evil to my blorbo, I was out of commission for a week. Thanks Geebs! /hj

I actually really like this decision. There were always consequences to Karmor’s actions, but it was never really personal. This choice really makes these consequences known to the audience. It can affect anyone. It will harm you. This breaks the fantasy “haha” atmosphere and mandates both the characters and the audience to face the realities of the PanOmniverse.

Shitty, in all senses of the word.

[twiishaa]

𝄞⨾𓍢ִ໋‎♪ the house across the bridge kita x reader, wc 2.2k warnings not proofread, inspired by ghibli film ‘when marnie was there’, idk <3

when you moved to the country, you weren’t expecting to meet anyone your age— and you definitely weren’t expecting to fall in love with a boy who lived there. maybe this summer fling would last you forever… 

𓈒ㅤׂ 𝜗𝜚 kita masterlist ╰(*´︶`*)╯♡

—

𓈒ㅤׂ 𝜗𝜚 THIS was the first summer you spent away from everything— the city, your parents, and, well, anything you knew. you’d come to spend the summer in the country with your aunt, which she so graciously offered after you told her about how much you wanted to do something new, something different. 

the train was long and uncomfortable, the seats stiff and the air stuffy. but outside, the view changed as you went from city to city, travelling further away. your aunt lived right on the outskirts of amagasaki, near the farms and green fields. as you began to enter the rural areas, the landscape shed its building skyline, and the concrete grounds were tenderly replaced with lazy fields bursting with crops and colourful flowers. it felt like an entire different world, leaving the city behind to enter the dream-like countryside. 

—

stretching your legs as you got off the train, you spotted your aunt almost immediately— she had a loving, maternal-like aura, always wearing a warm smile on her face. the city’s train station was small and slightly dirty, with only a few people populating it. 

before you could say hello, your aunt started squishing your cheeks. “my, [name], you’ve grown so much! the last time i saw you, you were tiny!” she said. 

you gave an awkward laugh. “thank you for letting me stay, auntie.” 

she shook her head. “no, the pleasure’s all mine. it’ll be nice having some company,” finishing her sentence, she gestured to a small, old-looking car. “should we get going?” smiling, you nodded. 

— 

“this was my old daughter’s room,” your aunt said while opening the door. “she moved out a while back, so it’s been free ever since. well, it’s yours for the summer now! feel free to make it feel like home,” looking around, you could tell it hadn’t been used recently— there was a small layer of dust on the furniture and the decorations were reminiscent of the trends from the last decade. 

this wasn’t too bad! flopping onto the bed, you decided to take a small rest before dinner, in a few hours.

—

the next few days had been uneventful. you helped your aunt around the house, then stayed in your room upstairs, spending most of the time admiring the stark contrast in landscape here. it wasn’t until one day, when you were cutting tomatoes for lunch, that something happened.

“have you been around the town yet? there are some nice places to see,” your aunt asked casually. stopping to look out the window at the midday sun, you replied,

“i haven’t yet. have you got any recommendations?” 

“oh, everywhere here’s nice!” she patted your shoulder as she passed you, carrying forks for the table. “tell you what. after lunch, you should walk around a bit! get some fresh air, it’ll be good for you too.” 

humming in agreement, you went back to cutting tomatoes. 

– 

after a few hours of getting to know the countryside town, you came across a small river, connected on either side by an aged wooden bridge. on the other side of the bridge, there was a house, surrounded by fields and fields of crops– you assumed it was a farm. 

but what was a farm doing in an isolated place like this? 

your curiosity got the best of you– taking a cautious look at your surroundings, you crossed the wooden bridge.

“hello?” a voice rang out from somewhere around you.

your eyebrows furrowed in confusion; you must’ve been hearing things.

but the voice spoke again, this time closer to you. “are you lost? i usually don’t see anyone around here,” it said, tapping on your shoulder. letting out a sudden yelp, you stumbled backwards. 

“oh… sorry. i didn’t think anyone would be here,” you apologised, turning around to see who it was.

it was a boy– your age, probably, with straight white hair, but the tips were black– as if they were burnt, and his skin was just slightly tanned, probably from being in the sun. in some strange way, he felt like someone you’d known before, someone you knew very well. his face felt familiar, but you’d never seen him before. 

hm. how come you didn’t hear his footsteps? you brushed it off quickly. 

the boy laughed a little. “oh, no, don't worry about it. are you new around here?” 

you chuckled nervously. “yeah, could you tell? i live in tokyo, but i’m staying here for the summer.” 

“for the summer, huh..” he repeated, stepping back a little. “you’re from the city? that must be…”

“different?” you said at the same time as him. he looked a little surprised, but he dismissed it quickly. 

“it’s different, all right. not used to seeing fields and farmhouses like these around,” you commented, taking moments to gaze at the scenery around you. “do you live here?”

the boy laughed again. “yeah, i do.” walking towards the hose, he said, “hey, you’re interesting. i could show you around if you want?” following behind him, you replied, “that’d be great! i’m [name], by the way.” “oh, i’m kita. kita shinsuke– feel free to call me shinsuke or shin, i don’t mind.”

– 

one thing turned into another, and now you were helping kita harvest one of the rice fields. despite it being difficult, he somehow made it look effortless, like he was just lifting up a few feathers. it was attractive— in some strange way. as the sun hit its highest point in the sky, the heat poured down on you two, and the sun made kita’s figure glow. turning to look at you, he explained how to do it. “so, you grab it here, and then cut it as low as you can get to the roots.” hesitating a little, you took hold of a handful of rice plants from their middle and went to cut the roots. “like this?”

“yep– just,” kita put his hand over yours and moved it down a little. as he did, he moved a little closer to you subconsciously. he smelled like the rice fields– earthy, warm, and slightly sweet; you held your breath when you felt his breath fan on your shoulder. 

“-like that.” he finished. 

“okay, so now i,” you let out the breath you were holding earlier. “just… cut it? like that?” you asked, while cutting off the roots. 

kita took hold of the crops and beat them on the side of the basket before putting them in. “you’re a natural, [name], have you done this before?” 

watching what he did, you went to cut another bunch. “i haven’t, no. and im sure im not that good,” you replied, embarrassed. 

–

slowly, you got into a rhythm, and kita started conversing with you a little more.

“so, what’s it like? the city, i mean,” he looked at you. 

feeling his eyes on yours, you blushed a little. “different. really different. i mean here, there’s a lot more… green, whereas over there, everything is just buildings and buildings…” 

kita focused on the crops again. “oh. so what do you do over there?” 

“oh, usually i just go on my phone, or something– there’s not much to do,” you replied, finding it a little boring just talking about your life. “so, shin, what’s it like living here? is it not lonely?” 

after hearing his name, kita’s head perked up. “hm? oh,” he looked a little embarrassed. 

“oh, should i not call you that? sorry.” “no it’s fine! im just.. not used to hearing it much, thats all. it gets lonely here sometimes, but it’s alright.” kita replied, banging the plants on the basket again.

it had been a good few hours, and you were getting tired. you stepped back from the line of crops, and kita did soon after. 

“that’s so tiring! how do you do that all day?” exasperated, you asked. “doesn’t it get hot?” 

kita sighed, and wiped the sweat off his forehead– it was causing his bangs to stick. you thought it was cute.

“it does get tiring. hey– i know a place where there’s some shade,” running the first few steps, he looked back to see if you were following. “if you wanted?” 

–

the place kita was talking about was a flower field, not too far from the farms. in the corner was a tree, its branches big enough to span over the entire field. resting on the trunk, kita sat down– you flopped onto the grass next to him. 

“it’s nice having someone my age here, finally,” kita said. up until now, you didn’t realise how pretty his voice was. it was calming, and gentle; you could listen to it all day. 

“hmm? same here, i thought i was gonna be alone,” you laughed– kita laughed with you. 

resting his head on the massive trunk, he continued, “doesn’t help you’re really pretty too. feels like im like, teaching a princess, or something.” 

hearing that, your heart suddenly skipped– the heat did well to hide your flushed cheeks. 

“if it helps,” you started, just loud enough for kita to hear, “i think you’re pretty too. and really sweet– im glad im not alone this summer,” flashing a short smile, you closed your eyes and soaked in the moment. 

it was comfortable, lying with kita here. 

– 

you quickly fell into a routine during the summer– it was the same thing every day, but it felt different each time over. you’d help your aunt and chat with her up till lunch, then you’d meet kita and hang out with him until the sun started to set. your feelings towards him only blossomed more over the course of the holidays– like a flower bud. you two would talk about anything and everything, or just lie next to each other, basking in the sunlight. whenever you crossed the little wooden bridge, you felt lighter on your feet, as if you were in a fantasy land. and to be honest– that’s what it was like– you’d come to the country for the summer and fallen in love with a boy who lived in a completely different world to you. the farms were almost like a time capsule, stuck in the simpler, pre-industrial world. 

sometimes, you thought about leaving everything behind for kita, but you knew better. you knew your family were waiting for you back home, and you couldn’t bring yourself to leave them behind for a boy you just met– you knew even kita’d say no. 

so, you surrendered to the ever-moving, fleeting nature of time. 

and soon, it came time to leave.

– 

today was your last day seeing kita. you were waiting underneath the same tree, staring out at the endless flower fields. 

“hey,” you heard kita from behind you. this time, you didn’t get scared. turning around, you studied his features one last time. 

“hi.” you couldn’t bring yourself to look at him properly– it just brought tears to your eyes. 

gently grabbing hold of your chin, kita lifted your head to look at him. “don’t cry, please, you’ll make me cry,” he said, his voice softer than usual. using both hands, you held onto his arm. 

“i know, i know but…” your voice came out a little choked, small sobs making their way through. “i’m gonna miss you, shin,” you whispered, your voice cracking a little. 

letting go of your chin, he closed the distance between you two with a hug. you just sobbed into his shoulder. 

“i’ll never forget you, shin,” you said, muffled. 

“me neither.” he broke the hug to give you something. 

“here, that photo we took during the sunset. i printed two out so that we could both keep one.” taking one, you put it in your phonecase. “thank you,” you managed to say before your aunt rang you on your phone. 

you both knew this was it. the flower field here would forever hold your memories together, even when you were apart. taking one last look at the field, and then at kita, you walked off. if you said anything now, you wouldn’t be able to handle it– you both knew that. 

kita whispered under his breath, “i’ll see you later, my love.” having barely heard what he said, you looked back to ask, but he had already disappeared. 

– 

in the car ride to the train station, you made conversation with your aunt. 

“thank you for letting me stay for so long, i had such a good time.” 

she laughed. “sure, feel free to come back whenever you want. did you make any friends?” 

friends– you thought of kita. smiling, you answered,

“yes i did– the boy who lives in the farmhouses?”

your aunt looked confused. “[name], there aren’t any farmhouses around here. maybe it’s some other house? did you get his name?” confused, you carried on describing to her. “the farmhouses across the bridge…” pausing, your aunt replied again. “oh, those.. no one’s lived in those for years now…” she sighed. “there was a boy your age a few years ago, but he died of tubercolosis. poor boy…” 

you blinked rapidly. kita wasn’t— what was he?

a ghost? it kind of made sense; his white hair, his lack of presence, and how the world felt… surreal on the other side of the bridge.

but the feelings you felt were real. when he hugged you, it was real. there was something there between you two— a pure love, seemingly powerful enough to transcend time. it didn’t make sense to you; but all that mattered was those moments. 

he said to you, “i’ll remember this forever,” but it seemed it was just you who remembered. and you’d hold onto this summer forever. 

note first longfic EVER (longfic = >1.5k okay) oh my gosh. why do i actually kinda like this..... @phantasmaebg

⋆˚𝜗𝜚˚⋆ like what you read? here’s the masterlist! ٩(๑❛ᴗ❛๑)۶

[mischievouslittlecreature]

Part 26: Do You Love Me

Summary: The hits keep on coming, and the darkness surrounding them continues to surge.

Word Count: 7,257

Warnings: Angst, insecurity, smut, wet dream, suicidal thoughts, violence, and torture.

Previous Chapter • Series • Fic • Next Chapter

Chapter 15: Lost Without You

Her hands were in his hair, hips moving with jerking, frantic motions as she rode his cock. Tommy moaned wantonly, face burying in her neck, hands clenching tightly at her waist. He inhaled the sweet scent of roses and vanilla, teeth scraping along her skin, laying sloppy kisses all the way along the slope of her shoulder to her throat. 

“Lucy,” he breathed out in sharp warning, feeling his balls tighten. It had been so agonizingly long since he’d had her, it was a miracle he’d lasted more than a few pumps. She moaned, back arching a little against him, head tipping to give him better access to her neck. Her walls squeezed around him in a vice grip, and then he was gasping out her name, white spots appeared in his vision at his cock swelling and exploding inside of her. And then he was holding onto her for dear life and telling her that he loved her and kissing her and trying to mold them together into one being so they would never be parted again and opening his eyes and–

And coming copiously all over the insides of his white shorts.

It took a moment for his head to right itself and entirely process what had just happened. And then he was rolling over, legs tangled in the sheets. Burying his face into the pillow, groaning perhaps a tad overdramatically. 

Oh, for fuck’s sake.

Finally, his head started to clear itself of post-orgasm flutters and the lingering arousal left over from the dream. He raised his face to examine the damage, cringing at the realization that his shorts were as good as ruined. 

Sitting up, he reached blindly for a cigarette, lighting it while rubbing at his face. 

In hindsight, he supposed it shouldn’t be that surprising. He hadn’t had sex since the time with Lizzie in the cupboard at her birthday party, and he’d been so preoccupied that he hadn’t had the time nor motivation to wank one out either. Not to mention his continued longing and pining for Lucy from afar. 

Coming in my sleep like a fucking teenager. Fucking hell. He shook his head. He and Lucy had never been ones to keep their hands to themselves. Outside of that time he’d been recovering from his head injury, or the time she was healing from being tortured by Luca, this had to be the longest dry spell they’d ever had. 

Gonna have to get used to it, aren’t you, Tommy? Since she wants next to nothing to do with you anymore, he thought to himself, leaning back until his skull thumped against the headboard. His hands threaded together over his stomach, chest heaving with a miserable sigh. 

God, he was so completely and utterly lonely without her.

There was no one to talk to. No one who understood. He thought that maybe that was what he missed the most. The simple understanding between them. On almost everything. Lucy had been his person. His best friend. Not just his lover. 

A sudden swell of agonizing sorrow washed over him when he glanced at the empty space beside him. Tears welled in his eyes, and rather than fight them back like he had been for so long, he finally gave in and let them slip down his cheeks, ragged sounds emitting from his throat while he sobbed quietly. Leaning down, he buried his face in her pillow, crying openly. The scent of her–renewed somewhat from the night that she’d spent back there after the ballet–was starting to fade. But he still had a bottle of her perfume that he could spray onto the sheets if needed. 

Chris, when did he get so pathetic? 

Missing her was a pain he had never thought he would have to experience. He supposed that he’d always assumed, without even really thinking about it, that the only thing that would separate them would be death. And even then, he knew that if Lucy were gone, he would not be long in following her.

It was not even a question, or something to consider. Just a simple, clean cut fact. 

He could not live without her. 

∗ ∗ ∗

Lucy turned over a slip of paper that had been ripped from her notebook. The information scrawled onto it seemed about to burn through the paper to singe her fingertips. She was lounging back in her chair at her desk in the London office, waiting patiently for Tommy to finish his meeting with Churchill before speaking with him. 

When she’d gotten in from her outing to a phone booth down the street–she didn’t trust that their phone lines in the office weren’t tapped–it was to find Churchill and Tommy already seated and talking in his office, the double doors open. While she removed her cap and stuffed it into her pocket, she didn’t bother taking her coat off before sitting down. It was dark out and they would be heading out once this meeting was wrapped up. 

“There are some times, some nights, when I don’t see the point in carrying on with any of it.” Tommy’s voice rumbled from his office. Lucy’s fidgeting with the paper momentarily ceased, alarm shooting through her.

She’d thought that he was doing better since she’d moved out. What could have happened to change that? Ben and the ten year old’s death had hit him pretty hard. Maybe it was that. 

He always did feel so guilty about everything, even when it was something that was not really his fault. 

When Churchill finally stood to gather up his hat and coat, Lucy busied herself adjusting the lay of a few pens on her desk, trying to pretend that she hadn’t been eavesdropping.

“Good evening, my dear,” Churchill said when he passed her desk, smiling at her good naturedly. Lucy returned the smile in kind. She liked Churchill. And she knew that Tommy did too. 

“Good evening, Mr. Churchill.” She waited until the door closed behind him, then stood.

The paper in her hand was crinkled horribly at the edges, but the quick, slightly slanted lines of the words she’d scribbled down onto it were still there, plain as day. 

Slowly, she approached him where he was standing in front of his desk, shoulders curved in and head bowed. 

“Tommy?” she called, timidly, coming up on his right side, inching closer. When his face came into view, she could see that his eyes were closed. She lifted a hand to touch his shoulder, then thought better of it and let it fall limply back to her side. “Are you alright?”

He roused at the sound of her voice, eyes opening and lifting his head. With a slight heave of effort, he pulled himself back up to standing straight. “Yes, I’m fine,” he replied curtly, not really meeting her eyes. 

Her fingers twisted at her rings while she observed him, frowning,. But she knew that pushing him on the matter was unlikely to accomplish much. Especially considering the way that things were between them currently. 

“I found out who killed Ben,” she offered instead, hoping that maybe that would help pull his mind out of whatever dark place it had gotten lost in. 

Tommy’s head finally twisted towards her. “Who?”

“His name is Paddy Rose. He has connections to the Ulster Volunteer Force and now offers his services in exchange for cash. He’s in Sparkhill. He’s the one who planted the bomb.”

“How did you–?”

“I called the girls who work at the Digbeth telephone exchange.” She and Tommy were friends with them. “I asked them about any calls that were made around the time of the explosion. Thirty minutes before Ben died, the call to Paddy Rose was made,” she hesitated. “The number that the call came from was Micky’s.”

“The bartender Micky?” 

“Yes.”

Tommy’s eyes turned to the window, wide. Lucy looked down at the paper which contained her notes. They all liked Micky. He was nice. Helpful. He’d done a stellar job of managing the Garrison since they’d hired him. 

“I asked them about patterns in the calls he made. If I had to guess, he’s been informing on us for some time now.”

“To Mosley?”

“Maybe. But probably selling out information to whoever will pay the most for it. He’s the one who gave the Titanic boys the tip about Arthur’s trip to pick up the opium. That’s why they knew where to go to ambush him.” It was lucky that Arthur was a deranged maniac who was more than capable of chasing off a few rival gang members. Otherwise they might’ve had another funeral to attend.  

“Do you have Paddy Rose’s address?”

She held out the paper silently to him. He took it, squinting a little without his glasses to make out the words. 

“Shall I pay him a visit?” she asked. 

“You, me, and Arthur will,” Tommy smacked his lips together in thought. “I want to speak with him personally.”

∗ ∗ ∗

Paddy Rose screamed as Lucy traced the tip of her blade around the edges of his eyeball, nicking slightly at his eyelid when she did.

“Any more questions for our new friend here, boys?” she asked Tommy and Arthur. Both men were half hidden in the shadows of the bridge. Tommy was leaning against the wall, the glow of his cigarette casting shadows across his face when he raised it to his lips. Arthur was lingering by the edge of the canal, hands in his pockets. 

“No,” Tommy said, tapping ash out onto the ground. Lucy looked back in the eyes of the whimpering Paddy. Well, looked into one of his eyes; the one her blade was poised dangerously close to. The other was long gone, tossed carelessly into the water after she cut it out of his head, leaving nothing but a bloody socket in its wake. 

“Thank you for your cooperation, Mr. Rose. You’ve been very helpful,” she crooned, and sliced his throat open from ear to ear. 

The three of them waited until he’d stopped gurgling and twitching, letting him bleed out slowly onto the cobblestones. Lucy cleaned her knives in the meantime, tucking them safely back into her coat.

“Let’s weigh him down,” Arthur finally said softly once the man had stopped moving entirely, no sound emitting from him save the soft drip, drip, drip of the blood running down his front to kiss the ground. 

The three of them worked together to tie the bricks they’d brought to the body. They dragged him to the edge of the canal, and with a heave, sent him rolling over to splash heavily into the water. The body floated only for a brief second before it sank beneath the dark depths.

“What are we going to do about Micky?” Arthur asked, the three of them standing on the edge, watching the water. Tommy took out another cigarette, offering his case to Lucy silently. She snagged one without even thinking and let him light it, wrapping her coat tightly around herself to hide the splatters of blood that had made their way onto the front of her shirt. 

“He’s going to have to go,” Tommy determined simply. 

“Tonight?”

He shook his head. “Tomorrow. After the family meeting.” 

“Right.” Arthur looked around. “Best get going. Before it starts raining.”

Lucy angled her head up. He was right. It did seem like it was about to rain. She could feel the weight of moisture in the air. As they started the walk back into the city, she trailed behind the two brothers, arms hugging her middle, eyes cast downwards. Every couple of paces, she sensed Tommy glancing back to make sure that she was still with them. 

She had made a decision, after her realization that Tommy was completely lost to her. She would stay until after the assassination was over. But then, she would leave. She had already bought the train ticket, hidden away under the mattress in her bedroom at Charlie’s. A week after Mosley had been dead, she would pack her bags, and leave for Liverpool to catch the first ship out of England.

Lizzie didn’t want her to remain in their lives. The kids probably didn’t either. Nor did the rest of the family. And deep down, neither did Tommy.  

She would not continue to burden him with herself, she decided. He had given her years of life and purpose. Far more than she probably deserved. She would not pay that back by overstaying her welcome and making things harder for him by continuing to linger on the peripherals of his life. Better that she was gone, so he could move on and enjoy his life without having to feel guilty. 

Her being gone, completely, was the best thing that she could do for him. 

∗ ∗ ∗

Lucy sat at the table in the corner, to the left of the fireplace, foot tapping on the floor and leaning back, smoking carelessly. She had been one of the first to arrive at the Garrison, earning an eyebrow raise from several of the other family members. She and Tommy rarely arrived at family meetings separately. Michael in particular had been eyeing her with a rather unnerving expression. 

There had been no time over the past few days for her to further investigate her suspicions that Michael was planning something. They had been too busy weeding out Micky’s betrayal and planning the assassination to focus on anything else. 

Arthur passed her a glass of whiskey after grabbing one for himself, earning a grateful smile from her. There was a tension in the room that she didn’t like; the majority of the family having occupied themselves with either smoking or drinking while they waited. Only Charlie and Curly were speaking, their voices lowered to hushed tones at their place by the door. Something about poor Charlie getting kicked in the leg by Barney, who was outside being watched over by a few Lee boys. 

The door slammed open and she let out a breath of relief she hadn’t even realized that she was holding at the sight of Tommy. He cleared his throat, and the meeting began. 

It was all going so well. Everything was happening according to plan. And then Michael interrupted Tommy in the middle of him announcing his official reinstatement to the company. Lucy tensed, even more so upon noticing the look of worried confusion on Polly’s face. If anyone would have known what Michael was up to, it would have been her. And yet she clearly didn’t. 

It seemed that the other shoe had finally dropped, then.

Michael met Tommy’s gaze unflinchingly. “Due to the amounts involved, I think that this company should be restructured.”

Holy fuck.

“Restructured in what way?” The look on Tommy’s face was dangerous. The kind of look he gave someone right before he ordered Lucy to blow their head off. She was suddenly greatly aware of the weight of her pistol pressed against her ribs in its holster.    

Michael stood, resting his hands on Gina’s shoulders as he began to speak, to outline his new plan for the company. The entire room was eerily silent save for Michael’s voice, everyone glancing nervously between him and Tommy.

“You see, I know, that the scars, and the wounds, they’re on the inside,” Michael tapped his temple. “Not on the outside. And as a member of the new generation, I am able to take that great burden off your weary shoulders.” Did the fucking kid just call them all old? 

Tommy’s eyes were so cold, she was surprised that she didn’t feel a chill in the air.

Michael soldiered on with the rest of his proposal, either not noticing or not caring how close he was to triggering Tommy’s wrath. Gina held out a file to him. He plucked it from his wife’s fingers, “Here is my proposal,” he set it on the table in front of Tommy, who looked down at it like it was a bug that needed to be squashed. “A full restructuring of the company. I will be managing director. And you can be non-executive chairman. But under an assumed name to protect your reputation. I found the name of a dead man. You will be registered as Mr. Jones.”

Tommy blinked very, very slowly. Oh, he was mad. Lucy had seen him furious many times over the years. This had to crack at least the top ten, maybe top five, of Tommy Shelby Is Pissed moments she had been witness to over the years. 

Michael looked around the room, turned back to face Tommy, and picked up the proposal, holding it out to him. “Take a look at the future, Tommy. At least read it with an open mind.”

There was a moment of utter silence, the only sound the soft crackle of the flames in the fireplace. The tension in the room was so tight even a simple whisper could have broken it. Lucy remained ready to spring, fingers itching towards her gun as she watched Tommy closely.

Just give me the order. Just say it and I’ll take care of this ungrateful, backstabbing, usurping piece of shit.

Tommy took the proposal from Michael, brows furrowing in mock concern.

“It’s cold in here, Michael.” In one fluid movement he turned, and tossed the proposal into the fire behind him. Johnny cackled from his place in the corner. Lucy smirked.

“Tommy, the Americans want to deal with me–”

“Item number three,” Tommy’s voice boomed over Michael’s.

Gina started egging Michael on–the girl had guts, Lucy could at least give her that–but before the conversation could escalate even more, there was commotion outside, and upon the news that Barney was giving their boys outside some trouble, the men in the room immediately leapt to their feet at Tommy’s order and filed out the door. Soon it was just her, Tommy, Michael, Gina, and Polly. Tommy turned, pinching at his brow. His hands came to rest against the mantle of the fireplace, head bowed towards the flames.

“I’m doing this for you, Tommy,” Michael placated. “It’s time. And you know it. Tommy, mum’s leaving. John’s dead. Arthur needs help. Lucy’s miserable. Ada’s man was killed in your own backyard because you fucked up–”

Tommy moved with frightening, almost unnatural speed, seizing a bottle of whiskey and throwing it into the fire. The bottle shattered, the flames flaring upwards in response to the alcohol. And then he whirled, seconds away from charging for Michael’s throat. Gina jumped back a bit in her chair. Polly spun away with her eyes closed. Lucy rocked forward, ready to help if he needed her. 

“C’mon, Tom,” Michael whispered, a pocket knife in his hand, held out to Tommy. “C’mon, cut me. Like the good old days. Or,” he lowered the blade, “see this for what it is. A natural succession. That someday must happen.”

Tommy licked his lips, eyes glancing away as he took a deep breath, shaking his head. “I gave you an opportunity, Michael. You betrayed me. Don’t be here when I get back. You,” he snapped his fingers at Gina, “you can tell your family–”

“Let me guess, ‘don’t fuck with the Peaky Blinders,’ right?”

Tommy stormed away towards the door. Lucy leapt from her position still seated at the table. 

“Get them the fuck out of here,” she commanded Polly, who was looking at her son as if she’d never seen him before. Shooting one last disgusted, disappointed look at Michael, Lucy followed Tommy outside. As soon as they were out the door and a few paces away Tommy groaned, leaning over with his hand braced on a lamppost. She pressed a palm between his shoulder blades.

“You alright?”

Tommy pinched the bridge of his nose, shaking his head. “After everything that we’ve fucking done for him…”

“I can’t believe that he called us old.”

Tommy gave her a look that was both appalled and amused. “That’s what you’re upset about?”

“What? I’m not even forty yet! Not that forty’s old,” she added hastily at his raised eyebrow. Chuckling, Tommy took her hand, dragging her along with him and heading for the sounds of Barney yelling. 

She hung back with Charlie and Curly, watching Tommy calm Barney down from the unpredictable, frightened mess that the man had been a moment ago. It was quite sweet, really, to see how gently Tommy treated his former comrade, handing him off to Jeremiah to take to Charlie’s yard. She followed Tommy and the remaining men back inside, to finish up the last piece of business before Michael interrupted them. The pub was empty upon their return, Michael, Gina, and Polly had all vanished. 

Lounging back in her chair, feet kicked up while she smoked, she listened quietly to Tommy relaying the plan for Mosley’s assassination to the other men. Arthur slid another glass of whiskey to her.  

In response to Tommy announcing Barney’s role of shooting Mosley, Aberama raised an eyebrow. “That madman out there? Need I remind you, Tommy, that you already have an assassin who works for you,” he nodded towards Lucy. “Why not have her do it?”

Lucy glanced away, swirling the whiskey in her glass. There was still a sting at not being chosen for this assignment, even though Tommy’s reasons were frustratingly sound, as he explained to Aberama and everyone else. Lucy continued to sip her whiskey while the men discussed the details. She and Tommy had already gone over the plan thoroughly. She already had her instructions. 

Guilt roiled within her at Tommy’s bitter demand that anyone who wanted to leave was to leave now. Did he know about the train ticket? Or was it just a reaction to Michael’s words about them being an old fashioned backstreet razor gang? He had his back to her where he was standing with his hands braced against the bar. She couldn’t see his face. 

 She hoped that he would not take her planned departure as a slight. Or as judgment passed onto any of them for the life that they lived. Or as detest towards the gang. She had loved her life with them. Truly. It was breaking her heart to have to leave it all behind. 

No one–her included–moved at the offer of escape. 

Wrapping up giving everyone their orders, Tommy dismissed them all save for her and Arthur. Leaning against the bar, Tommy’s face twisted, brow furrowing.

“It’s time.”

��� ∗ ∗

Much as he may have hidden it, the sting of the twisting knife of betrayal never really lessened. No matter how many times it happened.

He had known that Michael was up to something. But perhaps he had allowed himself to hope just a bit too much that it was nothing. That it was just his paranoia getting out of hand. And yet he had felt it, the creeping of hands reaching up to try to snatch away his crown, the vultures beginning to circle overhead.

He sank more heavily into his seat in the booth, face cradled in his hand as he tried to keep his head from exploding from the thoughts within. Michael’s words turned over in his mind. Beside him, Lucy fiddled with a coaster in front of her. Arthur was leaning over the bar with his head bowed. The Garrison was empty, save for the three of them. Until the door swung open and Micky walked in, humming softly to himself. All three of them tensed, a quiet resignation filtering throughout the room.

Here we go.

He kept his eyes focused sternly on Micky while he and Arthur explained their findings to him regarding his recent activities. 

“Me and my brother, and my assistant,” he nodded over at Lucy, who was watching them with dark eyes that seemed to glow like amber with the way the light hit them, “we spoke to Paddy. At length. He told us it was him that planted the bomb.”

With every word, Micky’s face drained of a little more color, until he was white as a ghost. He looked moments away from openly weeping. Tommy forced himself to think of Ada. To think of the child his sister would have to raise without a father. To think of the burning car outside his office, the charred figure that had been removed from it once the flames were doused. Micky had done that. He had to remember that. 

Arthur leaned forward. Micky began to sob. Tommy wished that he would fight them. Or deny it. Or be angry with them. Anything to help make what they had to do easier. But instead he just sat there, whimpering and crying, looking around before tilting his head up to the ceiling, murmuring what could have been a prayer under his breath. Sniffling, he pulled himself together, looking to him.

“I’m sorry, Mr. Shelby.”

Tommy looked away, towards the doors of the pub. Micky continued to stare at him.

“Don’t look at Tommy,” Arthur ordered softly, beckoning a hand at Micky until he fixed his eyes on him. Now. He needed to do it now, or he might not be able to. “The ceiling would be cheaper, brother.”

“Micky!” Fast as he could, Tommy pulled his gun from its holster, lunged forward, pressed it to the underside of the man’s chin, and pulled the trigger. The gunshot thundered throughout the pub, the wet splatter of blood and brains spraying upwards to coat the ceiling.

Arthur cringed away. Lucy turned her head to the side, eyes closed. Tommy slammed the pistol down on the table, hands bracing as he bent over it. A moment later he raised his hand to stare in amazement at the slight way that it trembled. 

“Fucking hell, Arthur,” he held it up for his brother to see. “Eh? Shaking like the hand of a normal man,” he straightened, wiping at his brow. He shot a glance at Lucy, checking to make sure that she was alright. She seemed fine, rubbing her balled up fist against her lips and eyeing Micky’s body where it was slumped over in his chair. Grabbing his coat, he began to pull it on.       

Then Arthur had to start in on pestering him about how maybe Michael was right…maybe they could stop…maybe it could be over…maybe, maybe, maybe…

Once upon a time, he had entertained thoughts of an after. A time when all the heinous shit they had to do would be behind them. When he would be able to rest. Be at peace.

What little lingering hope he’d had for that went up in smoke the day Lucy left Arrow House. Never to return. Not unless by some miracle he managed to win her back. 

Did he even dare? He needed her. But he couldn’t bear the thought of further ruining her life. The kind thing–the right thing–to do would be to let her go. That way she could finally be truly happy without being shackled to a mess of a man like him. He’d never deserved her anyway. 

He did his best to ignore Arthur, instead focusing on gathering up his cigarette case and lighter to stuff into his pockets. Lucy shifted, sliding from the booth to grab her own coat and shrug it on. Arthur whimpered, staggering backwards into the chair he had been sitting in, still babbling. Tommy kept his back turned to him, eyes staring at the floorboards as he exhaled, rubbing a hand over his face. Lucy was glancing between them worriedly. Michael’s voice, loud and clear, as if he was standing right beside him, rang in his ears.

Mum’s leaving.

Polly with her dark doe eyes, looking at him with that stern, yet motherly expression. An expression that these days always seemed to carry worry and disappointment in equal measures.  

John’s dead.

John’s body, cold and pale and full of bullets. The scent of the smoke from his burning burial wagon.

Arthur needs help.

The sounds of Arthur whimpering behind him.

Lucy’s miserable.

Her sad dark brown eyes. Her hands pulling away from him, even as he reached out for her desperately.

Ada’s man was killed in your own backyard because you fucked up.

The thundering boom of Ben’s car exploding right outside his office. Ada’s tears as he told her the news. 

All his fault. Each and every one of them.

It wasn’t the blue stone, Tommy. It was you.

“Michael…Michael could be right, we could go, Tommy. We could go,” Arthur babbled. “We could fucking leave this place. We could leave it to the kids. Michael’s…he might be right. He might be fucking right.”

It was you.

“Arthur!” Tommy exploded, “there is no item number five!” he roared, hand grabbing his gun where it was still sitting on the table next to Micky’s body. He stuffed it into his holster and straightened his jacket. “Go and check that Polly is still on our side,” he turned to Lucy. “Clean this up,” he gestured in the direction of Micky’s body. “Then check on Barney at the yard.” She nodded, eyes not fully meeting his while she adjusted the lay of her coat. “I have to go to Margate.” 

He ignored Arthur’s murmurs of affirmation, heading to the door. The space by his side where Lucy usually was felt gaping and empty, but he did his best not to dwell on it. 

∗ ∗ ∗

“Tommy,” Alfie said, before he could leave. “How’s Lucy?” 

He paused at the sound of her name. “She’s fine.”

“Does she know I’m alive?”

“Yes, I let her read your letter.” 

Alfie cocked his head, his good eye narrowing suspiciously. “Why isn’t she here?” 

“She was busy.”

But Alfie shook his head. “Where Thomas Shelby goes, the Red Demon is never far behind. That’s the saying, isn’t it?”

Tommy sighed, realizing that Alfie wasn’t going to let him get by with dodging the topic. “We’re…going through a bit of a rough patch right now.” Understatement of the fucking century. 

Alfie’s face immediately darkened. “What did you do?”

Tommy shot him a look of slight offense. “Why do you immediately assume it was my fault?”

Alfie just stared at him. Huffing, Tommy looked down at his shoes in silent admission that he was correct in his blame. 

“I saw you got married. Imagine my surprise when I saw that the bride’s name wasn’t Lucy’s.”

“It’s complicated.”

“Are you going to fix it?”

Shoving his hands into his pockets, Tommy looked towards the open doors leading out onto the balcony. “I don’t know if I can.”

“She was always too good for you.”

He let out a choked off, humorless laugh. “I know.”

“She loves you more than anything.”

A lump lodged its way into Tommy’s throat. “Yes.” She’d given him everything. Every little bit of herself. And he’d gone and been careless with it. Broken all the promises he’d made. Ripped out her heart and then stomped on for good measure. It didn’t matter that he hadn’t meant any of it. It had still happened. 

It would serve him right if she never forgave him.

“Do you love her, Tom?” Alfie asked.

Tommy looked up to meet his eyes. “Yes. Of course I do.”

Alfie examined him closely, then leaned back in his chair, seemingly satisfied. “Have you told her that, lately?”

Tommy opened his mouth to respond. To say, yes, of course I have. Because he told Lucy that he loved her all the time. Or at least he tried to. 

But then he thought about it. Tried to remember a specific time that he’d actually told her that he loved her. That his heart still belonged to her. 

To his utter horror, he realized that he couldn’t remember a moment recently in which he had. 

Fucking hell, no wonder she was pulling away from him. He’d so failed in nearly every capacity as a lover. Even he was amazed at how monumentally he kept fucking up with her at this point.  

He kept trying to figure out how it had all happened. And why it all seemed to keep collapsing further into disarray. All he could conclude was that he’d somehow gotten lost. They both had. In their own heads. Their own melancholies. Their own doubts and insecurities. Maybe it had happened after he made the deal with Lizzie, and the chasm started to open up between them. Or maybe it wasn’t until Lucy moved out, and he stupidly let her go. Without each other, they were…anchorless. Adrift. They needed each other. Otherwise–apparently–they lost their damn minds.  

“I need to get back to Birmingham,” he said, suddenly desperate to see her. Maybe…maybe all wasn’t entirely lost yet. Maybe he wasn’t too late. “Thanks, Alfie.”

Alfie just hummed, mumbling something about putting relationship counseling under his ever expanding list of special skills while Tommy hurried out the door. 

∗ ∗ ∗

The phone settled down gently into its cradle. No one was answering. 

He could still see Polly’s cold, defeated eyes when she had handed him her resignation. Rubbing a hand over his face, his eyes were drawn like magnets to the gun resting on the table. 

Michael’s words bounced around his skull like a ricochet bullet.

Lucy’s miserable. Lucy’s miserable. Lucy’s miserable.

Lucy’s voice, from their argument in his office, had also been on a constant replay for the past four days.

It’s better this way.

You seem to be doing just fine to me.

You’re the one who made that deal with Lizzie in the first place without even thinking of me!

He swallowed roughly around the lump in his throat. And now he had Polly’s prophecy to worry about.

  There will be a war, and one of you will die. But which one I cannot tell. 

Maybe Michael would get lucky. Maybe he’d take himself out, and Michael could descend upon his throne like a vulture, pluck his crown from whatever was left of his head after he’d blown his own brains out.

He needed to get out of here. Needed to talk to someone. Or else he ran the risk of doing something rash.

∗ ∗ ∗ 

The seat by the fire across from Charlie creaked as he sat down heavily in it, leaning forward close enough to let the flames warm his face.

“I,” he cleared his throat. “I called. The phone for Lucy’s room. She didn’t answer.” Not that he could really blame her. If he was her, he wouldn’t want to talk to him either. Hell, he didn’t want to talk to him.

“She took Asher for a walk. They’ll be back soon,” Charlie explained. He took a swig from the bottle by his feet. 

“How is she?”

Charlie shot him a stern look. The same one he used to give whenever he caught Tommy doing something he wasn’t supposed to as a kid. “How do you think?”

 His shoulders slumped, frown deepening. Charlie watched him across the fire, eyes narrowed. “So what’s your plan?”

“What?”

“To fix things with Lucy. What’s your fucking plan, Tom?”

He shook his head, gaze shifting to the black abyss of night around them. “I don’t know.”

Charlie scoffed, shaking his head. “Well, you better come up with something.”

Tommy sighed. “I don’t…I don’t know if she wants me to, Charlie,” he shifted uncomfortably, not used to feeling so vulnerable.

“Please. ‘Course she does.”

He shook his head again. “I’ve tried to talk to her about it. Each time she pushes me away.” 

Charlie inclined his head. “She’s telling everyone who asks how you feel about this new arrangement that you’re happy with it.”

“I’m not.”

Charlie shrugged. “Well. She seems to think that you are.”

Tommy’s frown deepened as he tried to figure out just what the hell he could have done to make her think that. He thought that he had been quite openly miserable about the whole thing. Charlie must have seen something in his face, because he snorted, shaking his head.

“Why the hell did you even make that deal with Lizzie, Tommy? You had to know what it would cost you.”

Tommy coughed awkwardly. “Lizzie was going to leave me,” he finally admitted. “I saw an opportunity when she presented her deal to keep her around. And…I suppose that I felt guilty. About all that I’ve put her through.”

“And now, where there was once a more balanced arrangement between Lucy and Lizzie, the scales now tip considerably in Lizzie’s favor. Lucy’s not your partner or your lover under this agreement. She’s your mistress or your whore, there to entertain you whenever your wife isn’t around.”

“What?” Tommy sat up, the beginnings of anger bubbling under his skin. “That is not-”

Charlie held up a hand. “I know that’s not what you intended, Tom. But that's what’s happened.” 

He looked at Charlie silently, bowing his head so that the shadow of his hat hid his eyes. “It’s not weighted in Lizzie’s favor, though, Charlie,” he spoke softly. “And it never was fucking balanced either,” he coughed again and rubbed his eyes. “I told Lizzie the truth.”

“What truth?”

“That I’m not in love with her.”  

Charlie took a drag from his cigarette. “Do you think it’ll finally get through to her this time?”

Tommy shook his head. “I don’t know,” he hated how helpless he felt. Charlie tsked.

“You and Lucy are so caught up in your own guilt over not being able to give Lizzie what she wants, but why? It’s not your fault that you don’t love her. And it isn’t Lucy’s fault that you love her and not Lizzie.”

“I’ve been a complete shit of a husband, Charlie.”

“I’m not sure if you can ever be considered a good husband, Tom, considering that you don’t even love your wife,” Charlie shook his head. “You and Lucy have done all you could to give Lizzie a comfortable, stable, content life. She’s got the big house, a position in society, money, status, and a child. You have accommodated her as best as you can. Done what you could to get through to her and to make her accept the reality of the arrangement that she signed up for. That is the best that you can do. And by no means am I saying that you should be cruel or unkind to her, but…Tom, the scales are never going to tip in Lizzie’s favor. Or even be balanced for that matter. You and Lucy will accomplish nothing by wallowing in your guilt and making yourselves miserable in some attempt to make Lizzie happy. I know you both feel guilty and like you are being unfair to her. But it is also unfair for you to be expected to be unhappy for the rest of your lives so that Lizzie gets to play out some fucking fantasy. And I don’t think that Lizzie is that unfair. Or cruel.”

Tommy swallowed around the lump in his throat. “I know all that Charlie. It’s Lucy that won’t even talk about any of it.”

“She’s seen this whole situation with you and Lizzie drag both of you down, leaving you both bitter and resentful. You know how Lucy is. She always wants to fix things for people. And… she can have a bit of a martyr complex to her.” Charlie’s eyes bored into him from across the fire. “She wants you to be happy, Tom. And she thinks that by trying to fix things between you and Lizzie, she can accomplish that.”

“I don’t deserve either of them, Charlie.”

Charlie looked at him with deep concern. “You aren’t as bad as you think you are, Tom.”

“All I’ve ever done is hurt them.”

“You gave Lizzie a chance at a new life. You gave her a child; something that she’s always wanted. You gave her a family that loves her and looks after her. And what do you think would have happened to Lucy without you, hm? She’d be dead, Tom. Or sold off to that asshole in London to probably be brutalized and beaten everyday of her life. You gave her life a new purpose. And you have loved her very, very much. Probably far more than she ever thought would be possible.” At Tommy’s questioning look, Charlie shrugged his shoulders. “I saw how fucked up she was when she first arrived here from London, remember? They destroyed her over there, and you put her back together. And you do make her happy, Tom,” he gestured with a small wave, “this whole situation notwithstanding, of course.” He readjusted his injured leg. “Look, you two absolutely need to talk about all of this. It’ll probably be messy and a little painful, but in the end you’ll be fine.” The old man spoke with such confidence, truly zero concern in his voice that their relationship wouldn’t survive such a confrontation. “You love each other too much to let go of the other that easily.”

Tommy wanted to believe Charlie. He wanted to have that same belief that his relationship with Lucy could withstand practically anything. But the fear and unsurety remained.

“What if she wants me to let her go?” He hated the way his voice suddenly sounded. Small, like a scared child. Charlie snorted, flicking his cigarette into the fire. “I don’t know how to fix this, Charlie.”

“You’re Thomas fucking Shelby. If you want something bad enough, you could practically will it into existence. So,” the man who was more his father than his actual father regarded him from across the flames. “What is it that you want, Tom?” 

Tommy pulled his arms in tighter against himself. “I want…” everything; that was what he had told Lucy, that first night he’d properly met her. On the bridge overlooking the cut. And he’d had it. For a moment. For a while. Everything is mine, Lizzie, he had whispered to his wife after they’d sealed their new deal. Everything. And then Lucy was gone, and might as well have taken everything with her. 

There was the soft crunch of footsteps behind them, and then he was being ambushed by something big and black and fluffy headbutting him in the legs, tail wagging.

“Hullo, Asher,” he said, chuckling at the dog’s overexcited response to him. His hands petted over the dog’s soft fur. Lucy appeared next to Charlie, arms wrapped around herself. “Hi,” he murmured awkwardly, voice softer.

“Hullo,” she responded, holding out her hands to be warmed by the flames. Her coat and hair were soaked from the rain still falling heavily from the sky. Tommy wanted to pull her into his lap and wrap his arms around her like he always used to whenever she was cold.

“You know, Lucy,” Charlie stood suddenly, wobbling. “I think that those painkillers you gave me are finally starting to kick in.” He grasped a makeshift crutch to take the weight off his fractured leg. “I think I’m gonna go try to get some sleep. Big day tomorrow and all.” He waved a hand away when they both made moves to help him. “No, no. I can manage.” He gave Tommy a very pointed look as he hobbled past him, taking Asher��s lead from Lucy to usher the dog with him back inside. Tommy had to fight back the urge to snort. Subtle, old man.

For a long moment he and Lucy stood in awkward silence, the fire crackling between them, neither of them daring to speak first.

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[mayakimayahai]

TU MERE SAPNO MAIN NAHI AA SAKTA WTF

[iniziare]

Tag drop: Changli (Wuthering Waves)

[infinitelystrangemachinex]

Mel for the unhinged character bingo!

yessss YEEEESSSSSSSSS

[fingertipsmp3]

Next time I wake up in the middle of the night I’m actually not going back to sleep. Because why did those extra 2.5 hours I got contain the most bizarre storyline ever

[seagreenstardust]

Who was going to tell me that Taylor Swift was actually writing about bkdk all these years

[sunni-stuff]

You who's studying abroad in the UK where you have a one night stand with Ghost at a bar; it's a special night for the soldiers and he gets lucky after making you laugh by telling a shitty joke thanks to the liquid confidence in you. You ask his name, and he tells you there's no need — that you'd forget by the end of the night.

Taking you back home, there was no time wasted. The man practically has you seeing stars. He pumps you full of cum, whispers absolute filth in your ears and leaves bruises on your thighs by the time it's all over. He at least cleans you up, gives you proper aftercare before disappearing while your still fucked out of your mind.

Anyways, a great night. perfect 10/10, you have a story to tell your girls. So, your life continues on track as normal, right?

Wrong!

You dream of him. You have countless dreams of him. They were graphic reenactments of that night. His stubble rubbing against your cheek, his lust-filled eyes burning into yours even in the darkness. And oh, his voice - deep and confident - the very reason why you were drawn to him in the first place.

He creeps into your dreams every single night without fail, so much so that it frustrates you. surely not because you were soaking wet afterwards, no, no, it was only because he was so annoying! Surely it wasn't because you’d end up pumping your fingers in and out your soaked cunt for hours in hopes of recreating that mindblowing orgasm he'd given you only to fail each time.

After your 10th failed attempt to cum, you crack asking the friend who took you out to the bar in the first place if she knew who the soldier was and she claims her boyfriend does. You've met Kyle before, he's a handsome man with dreamy eyes and a gentleman's demeanor.

Kyle tells you he'd pass the word back to his lieutenant, but he's a busy man who doesn't stay in one place. There's no guarantee he'd even respond.

Lucky you, screwing a lieutenant who probably doesn't remember who you are or won't have the time to find out.

The waiting game painfully starts all while the dreams continue. Each torturous night leaves you more and more agitated than before. By the 4th night, you already embraced the restlessness sure to come when the vibration of your phone changes everything.

Directly on the home screen was a text from an unknown number. There was no name, but you had a feeling who it was based on the message.

“Keep the front door unlocked for me.”

A/N I wrote this during hurricane francine when my power went out, I think she gave me superpowers. Idk I'll start flying tmr!!

P2 here

[classicjdog]

man playing guitar hero with the actual guitar controller is really really fun. no wonder that shit was so popular back in the day. in my childhood i played a decent amount of gh with a normal controller, but playing it on the guitar is definitely more fun, at least once i got used to it

wish i'd inherited my older brothers' talent for the game but twas not to be unfortunately, no 5 star through the fire and flames on expert for me lmfao but i'm still having a lot of fun doing fairly well for myself on hard and barely scraping by on expert

the 2 songs that i've replayed the most so far are hotel california & eruption. hotel california strikes a really nice balance between being really fun & engaging to play while still being totally doable even for someone with my shitty level of skill. like it's not some super easy song where you're just strumming away at the same chord progression over and over for 5 minutes, there's lots & lots of hammer-on/pull-off sequences, but those sequences are very much on the easier end of the spectrum. it is, at least so far, the only song that i've 5 starred on expert, it's really fun and obv it's a super good song too

eruption is also very very fun cause it's literally just a 2 minute guitar solo and it's REALLY HARD. it's so hard that i really shouldn't be able to do it, like it's the final song in the van halen career mode which means the game places it on that same tier of final boss-type songs as like through the fire and flames & jordan & the like, but since it's so short it's actually just barely doable for me. at least on hard, i haven't even tried it on expert lol. it's also the only song where i've successfully done that both-hands-on-the-fretboard thing that i saw my brothers do back in the day. any time it could potentially be useful i'm usually too overwhelmed by the number of notes to even think to attempt it, but i'm pretty sure eruption is specifically designed for you to have both hands up on the neck of the guitar since that's literally what eddie van halen did whenever he played the song irl, which i do think is a really nice touch

[chastiefoul]

jjk men coming home and finding you crying

ft. gojo, geto, nanami, toji fluff and comfort

gojo satoru

you wiped your eyes quickly as you heard the door opened. you took a deep breath, making sure your voice didn’t come as shaky as you said, “welcome home, toru.” with a big grin and the usual paper bag filled with sweets on his right hand he planted a kiss on your head. “i’m home baby.”

you were just about to let out a sigh of relief when satoru suddenly knelt in front of you who’s on the couch, blindfold off as his blue eyes stared as if seeing right through you. “what’s wrong?” he said softly, his knuckles brushing over your cheek with such a careful gesture. “what do you mean?” you tilted your head, cringing inside at the bad feign. “you can’t fool my six eyes, baby. also what kind of boyfriend i’ll be if i can’t even notice when my girl is sad?”

you tried to form a sentence to say as an excuse but the kisses he peppered across your face wasn’t really helping. you chuckled as you whine softly, “toruu.” the white-haired man cupped your face, a gorgeous smile on his face. “my favorite sound, baby,” he said, kissing your lips. “tell me? pleaseeee.” you laughed once more at his emphasis at the last word. “it’s really nothing, toru.”

“i love listening to nothing. we even have some sweets here as snacks,” he said, opening the paper bag excitedly. “i think you just want an excuse to eat it at 8 pm,” you raised an eyebrow, as he grinned. “nonsense, baby. now c’mere, let me hold you while you tell your story.” he put you between his legs, your back resting on his broad chest comfortably. you sighed out of wonderment, thinking how you could be so lucky, being this loved by the man.

“here, pick whatever. this one is my favorite,” he rummaged through the bag that’s on your lap. you looked at him with fondness as his face leaned in beside you to see better. “yeah? you’ll give me your favorite?”

“there’s nothing in the world that you can’t get, baby.” he kissed the side of your face. “now start from the very beginning.”

geto suguru

“if you thought you were doing a great job hiding those tears i have some news for you sweet girl,” geto’s voice was gentle on your ear as he wipe the wet residue underneath your eyes with the inner sleeve of his robe. “i wasn’t really hiding it,” you frowned, somehow not liking the fact that he noticed your little moment of weakness. “yeah? so you were just rubbing your eyes all rough like that for no reason?” he gave you a little smile.

yeah, it was a battle you had lost from start.

he put his arms around you, rubbing your back in a soothing pattern. “what’s wrong baby, everything okay?” you melted right into his touch, resting your head on his chest right on the calming beating of his heart. “yeah, it’s not really a big deal,” you mumbled, your low spirit was really affecting him more than he would ever let you know. his hand kept moving as he once again kissed the side of your head, a low chuckled escaped him. “you’re cute when you think you have a choice on telling me what had upset you.”

you laughed softly at his playfulness, knowing full well to you’ll end up telling your boyfriend everything. “you’re right. but can i tell you later?” you asked, wanting just this peaceful moment to last just a little longer as you held him tight.

“’course baby, got all the time in the world for you.”

nanami kento

nanami already knew that something was off when the house felt a little quiet as he arrived. and then he found you hunched over as you stood behind the kitchen counter. “honey?” you wiped your eyes with what you thought was the speed of sound but it was clear to both of you that you had been crying. “hi ken, how was work?” you replied with a small voice, a smile nanami didn’t particularly like plastered on your face; only because it seemed forced.

“oh no, we’re not breezing past it. come here my love.” and his embrace enveloped you like a dream, all warm and perfect. he stroke your hair ever so softly as he whispered sweet nothings. when you calmed down a little he sneaked a hand under your jaw, rubbing his thumb on your cheek gently, a gesture with amount of love you could only guess. “what’s wrong, hm?” he questioned you, his eyes shone with adoration; there’s only you in that moment.

“i’m okay, ken. more importantly aren’t you tired from work?” there’s a deep crease between the blond’s man eyebrows he heard you say this, as if that was the most offensive thing he had ever heard from you. “’more importantly?’ there could be nothing that’s more important than you, dear,” he said, knowing that concern was from a good place, like he was worrying over you, of course you would fuss over him who just came home from work.

“still…” you hesitated, but he kissed it out of you quickly. “want me to prepare you a bath, love? you know i can get the perfect temperature for you,” he whispered, coaxing you. and he was right, even sometimes he would get it right more often than you. before you could even mumble out another excuse he continued. “and while you do that i’ll prepare dinner, okay? i’m sure there’re still some ingredients left to make that nice meal you like.”

“no, i couldn’t possibly let you do all the work ken-“

“love, i’m here. you can relax, okay? you always do so much for me, let me do this for you,” he reassured you, cupping your face as he trailed your cheeks with soft kisses. you’re still not convinced, as he smiled over your great concern. “do this for me, please?” he tried once more and there’s no way you could refuse that. you nodded, feeling another wave of tears coming out of gratitude for your boyfriend., “thank you ken, i love you so much.”

“i love you too. and when you’re ready to talk, i’m here okay? always.”

toji fushiguro

he lifted you up, your leg instinctively wrapped themselves around his waist as he grabbed both of your thighs to support you. you tighten the hold of your arms around his neck, resting your head on your shoulder, nuzzling closer to his neck; not wanting him to see your post-crying face.

he sat you on the kitchen counter, putting both of his hands on the hard surface, on either side of your body practically refraining you to run away. “what’s wrong pretty girl?” he asked you who’s currently staring at the fingers on your lap as if it’s the most interesting thing in the world. he kissed your shoulder blade, intentionally lingering a little long to hopefully calm your nerves. “nothing, i guess,” you answered nonchalantly, like detaching yourself. “you’re shit at lying babe, you know that right? look at the frown that you’re wearing right now, it’s almost touching the floor,” he said as he kissed your neck next. “mean,” you meant to frown, and you realized you were already doing that for the past hour. fine, maybe he had a point, so what?

“nah, what’s mean is when my girl won’t even tell me what made her upset,” he said, tilting his head confidently, his big hand on your waist as he rubbed your side. the look on his face was enough to make you relent. “fine… you’ll force it out of me sooner or later anyways,” you mumbled as he smiled, knowing that you needed a little push is all to sound your worries. “atta girl.”

“tell me all ‘bout it yeah? don’t leave out a single detail. then maybe if you’re up for it, i can show you that i got many ways to cheer you up,”